Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
She raises a hand. “It’s not bad, Lavender. In fact it’s quite the opposite.”
“Oh. Okay.” Some of the tension drains from my body, and I feel less like a sheet of stiff metal and more like one of those soft, squishy plush pillows.
“You’re a gifted seamstress, Lavender, one of the best students I’ve had. I’m aware you haven’t selected a major yet, but I’m hopeful costume design is something you’re looking to pursue.”
I nod, heart thundering in my chest. “That’s what I was thinking, yes.”
“That’s fantastic to hear.” She shifts in her chair to face me. “I wanted to talk to you about a special opportunity. Usually it’s reserved for senior students, but I felt it might be worth bringing up with you. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we have a connection with a few very exclusive summer internship programs in New York.”
“With off Broadway theaters, right?” My stomach churns at the thought of the bustle and energy of such a huge city.
“That’s correct. With your permission, I’d like to submit your name.”
“For this summer?”
“Yes. It’s highly competitive, but I think it’s worth a shot to at least apply. You’d spend two months in New York City working with some of the best costume designers in the industry. Is that something you might be interested in?”
“Yes,” I blurt. “I’d have to talk to my parents about it, but yes, it’s definitely something I’d be interested in. Can I have a few days to think about it?”
“Of course! The application deadline isn’t until early December, so you have plenty of time to make a decision. I’m aware it’s a lot to consider, so I wanted to give you an opportunity to think it through. There are obviously no guarantees, but I believe you have a great shot. Why don’t you mull it over, and we can talk next week?”
I leave her office feeling equal parts elated and anxious. I consider who I want to talk to first about this. Usually it would be my mom, but I’ve put her through the wringer by moving into the dorms and leaving it up to her to talk to my dad—who I have yet to hear from. Although, it’s only been twenty-four hours. Mom may have made him promise not to call until he’s calmed down about it. That’s my guess, anyway.
I decide my best bet is to let the information settle and make a list of pros and cons before I do anything else. This feels like a sign, though. Opportunities like these don’t come along every day, and I’d be a fool to pass it up, even if the idea of moving to New York on my own makes me feel like hurling.
The meeting with my professor has made me all sweaty, and I decide it might be a good idea to go back to the dorms, grab a quick shower, and change before I meet Josiah for tutoring. My anxiety spikes as I approach my new room.
I stand outside the door for a few seconds, listening for sounds of . . . things I’d rather not interrupt. When all I get is silence, I unlock the door and slowly open it. I’m relieved to find no one fornicating on the couch.
That relief is short-lived, though, because the bathroom door opens and my new roommate appears. As I feared, I have had the misfortune of meeting my roommate before. Even worse, Beth is short for Bethany, and she’s the same girl who came out of Kodiak’s house on the first day of school, bragging about having been in his room with him right after he treated me like less than chewed gum. She’s also the one who spilled soup on my leg.
She’s currently wearing a towel on her head. And nothing else.
I keep my eyes on the ceiling as she flounces across the room. “I have a friend coming over in half an hour, so you might want to leave so you don’t end up eavesdropping like you did last night.” Her door closes with a slam.
I stand there for a few shocked seconds before I finally command my feet to move toward my own room.
I have my key ready, but I come to an abrupt halt when I notice my door is covered in Post-it notes. They take up every last inch of space, and each one cites an infraction I’ve committed in the past twenty-four hours—from leaving my toothbrush in the bathroom to eavesdropping on her having sex (they were in the damn common room) to trying to steal her boyfriend this morning by offering him sexual favors.
I have the wherewithal to snap a few photos before I hastily lock myself in my room.
I send them to River and ask if he would mind coming to help me move my stuff back home. I also message Josiah and tell him I need to postpone tutoring and will explain why later.